Free Trader Complete Omnibus

by Craig Martelle

  The large croc continued to thrash about at the water’s edge, infuriated at losing its eyes. He’d heard they were good eating, but had never had the opportunity to try one. Now was his chance. He crept to the side of the croc as it churned up the water and the sand of the shore. With two hands on his knife, he timed his swing as a downward chop to the exposed throat of the croc. Although this was the vulnerable underbelly, it was still far tougher than Braden imagined. He thought he had delivered a killing stroke, but it only made the croc angrier. It was hurt and dangerous.

  Braden jumped out of the way as it leapt in his direction. He hopped a couple more times as the croc backed into the water. It struggled to swim, and then it submerged and disappeared from view. Bloody bubbles appeared above what was probably the deepest part of the small lake. Braden didn’t think a dead croc would float, and there was no way he was swimming in there to retrieve it.

  He still wouldn’t have the opportunity to try some croc.

  Braden put his clothes on, angry at himself for going that deep into the water. He knew better, but it felt too good.

  Once he put the knife through his belt, he looked up. In front of him was one very wet Hillcat. G-War’s eyes were slits as he glared at the human. “Whoa. You’ve looked better, G.”

  Braden took the shirt off that he had just put on and rubbed the ‘cat to help dry him, until G-War scratched his hand, letting him know that there was nothing he could do to redeem himself.

  ‘Why did it go into the water?’ The ‘cat’s question burst into his mind.

  “To clean off the dirt of the road! It’s been how long since we’ve been able to clean up? Believe it or not, humans like to be as clean as any ‘cat.” He nodded emphatically to drive his point home. “By the way, why didn’t you let me know it was there?”

  ‘There was no problem as long as it didn’t go into the water.’ The ‘cat wasn’t forthcoming with information unless it was clearly needed. Like his help last night with the deer, which showed that self-serving information was the most readily shared. And that was the end of what passed for a reasonable conversation between Braden and the ‘cat.

  14 –Like an Eagle

  As they continued south, staying far from the road, they spotted a couple more Crawlers, no more cold-water crocs, and plenty of deer. They saw a mutie Bear a ways off, but the horses were able to gallop past before he became interested. The Bears were the most dangerous creatures known in Warren Deep. They could paralyze a creature with their mind. Not that they needed that edge to overwhelm something so insignificant as a human. They couldn’t see very well, but they were smart. Most people were fortunate enough to never see one.

  The civilized areas of Warren Deep had been mostly cleansed of mutants, the kind that would kill a person anyway. When the weather changed or the ground shook, some would appear. Everyone lived with a certain amount of fear. Fear that you wouldn’t bring home enough food for your family. Fear of fire, life, pain. Anything. Animals had an even greater base instinct for fear, even intelligent ones.

  But Braden had never sensed any fear from G-War. Maybe the ‘cat lived completely without it. He was deadly, quick, and prescient. He knew when a fight was coming. Braden suspected that he also knew how it would turn out. G-War seemed surprised that he ended up in the lake during the fight with the croc. Still, surprise wasn’t fear. He looked back at the orange fur ball curled up in a nest that he made within the blankets on their pack horse. Braden expected that his claws were embedded to keep him from slipping off and getting another unwanted surprise.

  Braden smiled. He had been incredibly lucky meeting the Golden Warrior. The ‘cat had saved his life numerous times. The bonding was supposed to be a partnership, but Braden felt more like an honored servant. For providing food and basic services, Braden received one forever guardian that questioned his competence at all times, while occasionally delivering life-saving support.

  On cue, G-War lifted his head and looked at Braden. The ‘cat blinked and rose to a sitting position. ‘As it should be,’ he sent over their mindlink, then added, ‘Hungry.’

  They entered an area of rolling plains in the foothills of the Bittner Mountains. Rocky islands broke the monotony of the flowing grasses. It was serene. Braden wondered why no humans had settled here, for it looked like it needed nothing to be fertile. Maybe it was because they were a long way from the roads.

  The ancients had laid out a system of roads that tied together the important places. These were still the main travel ways, although the road surfaces themselves were cracked and overgrown. New roads had been made in the dirt alongside those of the ancients. Although the ancients had been long gone, people were still hesitant to move into the wild.

  Braden led his small party to a rocky outcropping, dismounted, and gave the area a good once over. He didn’t like surprises any more than G-War. “Anything?” he asked the ‘cat, trying to avoid another croc crashing the water party incident.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered almost instantly. And so began the twenty questions of their conversation.

  “Will it kill me?”

  ‘Not if it doesn’t go into the water.’ Braden gave the ‘cat a hard look. His demeanor hadn’t changed. His whiskers flicked back and forth, before settling back. Was that a laugh? Had G-War actually made a human-quality joke? Braden should have been offended, but he was impressed. Maybe in another ten cycles he would be allowed to learn the ‘cat’s name.

  ‘No, it won’t.’ The ‘cat started to scruffle around on the blanket, gave up, and jumped down, startling the horse. Pack settled down quickly. ‘Follow me.’

  Another first. Even when the ‘cat knew Braden was getting himself into trouble, he let him walk headlong into it. Braden couldn’t remember a time when the ‘cat volunteered to lead them into danger. Braden wisely followed, an arrow nocked on his Rico Bow. On the other side of the rocks, near the top, an eagle was perched. Braden had never been this close to an eagle. It was impressive and different from any other bird he’d seen.

  It glistened, its feathers shiny in brown and white. It looked like he was seeing the bird in the reflection of calm lake water. It looked at him and screeched a long, awe-inspiring cry. G-War sat down and looked intently at the eagle. Their eyes locked and to someone else, it would seem as if they were in a stare down. Braden knew better. The ‘cat and the eagle were talking.

  ‘Meet Skirill,’ the ‘cat finally opened his mindlink. The flood of images was overwhelming and Braden fell to his knees, dropping his bow in the process. The eagle and Braden were linked through the opening that G-War created. Seeing how an unprepared mind communicated, he finally understood why G-War kept their mindlink closed most of the time. Did his mind do this to the ‘cat?

  “I’m Braden,” he finally said after regaining some control over his own thoughts. “I am very happy to meet you.” No matter what role he filled at present, he would always be a trader, always congenial to new people. Or creatures.

  Images of injuries became the focus of what Skirill sent to him. Braden closed his eyes and concentrated. He saw what the eagle was looking at. Injuries to his body, a wing, and one leg. Braden opened his eyes. He could barely make out the damage from where he was. He climbed the rocks to get a closer look. The eagle’s appearance was menacing, his hooked beak ready to tear flesh. Braden stopped and looked back at the ‘cat. The human held out his arms, palms up in the universal what-the-hell gesture. The ‘cat slightly inclined his chin, indicating that Braden should go on.

  “I think you need another dip in the water.” Braden concentrated hard on his memory of a dunked G-War from yesterday. The look on the ‘cat’s face. Their mindlink snapped shut.

  Braden laughed to himself as he resumed his climb. The eagle bobbed its head. Had he seen that image?

  He took a seat before the eagle with his palms outward in what he hoped showed calm. The eagle was far more impressive close up. As it stood, it was taller than G-War was long. It was easily as wide. Its wingspan w
ould probably be as long as his old wagon. The beak was rough, with small notches marking where it had tried to rip through something hard. Maybe it had succeeded. The injuries on the eagle’s body suggested that maybe it was not.

  It looked like a Bear claw had caught the eagle unaware. Braden wondered if it was from the one they had seen to the north. Maybe the Bear had frozen the eagle’s mind and then attacked. It was a miracle the eagle had gotten away. The great bird nudged Braden’s head. He recoiled, until he realized that the eagle wasn’t interested in a long examination. It was interested in the help that the ‘cat probably promised.

  “I have numbweed. I have a needle and thread. I have something to use as a bandage. I can help you.” Braden started climbing down, over his shoulder he told Skirill, “I’ll be right back.”

  After applying most of his stock of numbweed, Braden decided that it would be a step too far to try and stitch up the worst of the wounds, the one on the eagle’s leg. He asked for G-War’s help in communicating.

  The ‘cat harrumphed, then opened the mindlink. The images were calm, not overwhelming this time. Skirill must have been in a great deal of pain. Braden formed an image in his mind of sewing the gash together. He focused on that image, then asked politely, “Good sir! May I sew up your wound? It will greatly speed the healing process and maybe even save you a few feathers.” He waited, not knowing what kind of reply he would get.

  After a couple moments, the Eagle started squawking. Braden thought it sounded like he was trying to talk. “Ssssack Soooo. Esss.” The “s” was pronounced as a mini screech, the “ck” as a click of the eagle’s tongue. The vowels were expelled air, with the tongue shaping how it sounded, instead of non-existent lips.

  “One more time, please.” Braden asked.

  “Sssack sooo. Esss,” the eagle replied.

  ‘He said, Thank you, yes,’ G-War interjected in his thought voice. Braden was surprised that the eagle was trying to speak directly. Maybe the images from Braden’s mind were too much for Skirill, as his were mostly unintelligible to the human.

  Braden took out his thread and the smaller of his two coveted needles. He threaded it carefully and, taking a deep breath, plunged the needle between two feather shafts and into the skin. He pulled the skin up so he didn’t dig into the muscle, then pulled the thread through. He did the same to the other side, pulling the skin tightly across the gash. He looked up to gauge the eagle’s level of pain.

  Skirill gave no indication that he felt the pain.

  “Just a few more and we’ll have it closed up. Then we’ll put numbweed on one more time, say after sunrise? Then you should feel a lot better. By the way, how did you learn to speak our language?” Braden was thinking out loud rather than trying to carry on a conversation with an eagle. He continued working on the wound.

  “Ohhh Kay,” Skirill said. “Anngaage eee aaaeeeend. I saw. I learrr.”

  “You learned our language from my mind?” He was getting easier to understand the more he talked. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are humans the stupidest creatures on Vii?” Warren Deep was the land north of the Great Desert on the planet the inhabitants called Vii.

  ‘It sees truth,’ G-War purred softly into his mind. He still couldn’t believe it possible. The eagle had learned to speak from a few heartbeats worth of contact with his mind. What had he learned?

  He saw pretty pictures of the land as the eagle flew.

  Once finished sewing the wound shut, he tied off the final knot and bit through the string to cut it. The eagle giggled at this.

  “Come on, Skirill. It’s all I have. I didn’t want to use my knife so close to your body, which is magnificent, by the way.” Back to trader platitudes. He saw an eagle with his eyes, but in his mind he saw a creature that was probably superior to him. Braden had no special powers. He counted on Old Tech, his Rico Bow, to give him his edge. He practiced a great deal with it to be as deadly as possible.

  He pulled the string with his right hand and he nocked the arrows on the right side. This was counter to how he had been taught as a youth, but he discovered that he could shoot far faster and just as accurately doing it his way. He could loose three arrows in the space of a single heartbeat.

  Maybe that was his special power, the ability to work out problems and then act. As he was doing now on his journey to find Old Tech.

  “Come on, G, you have to like something about me, don’t you?”

  ‘Thumbs,’ was all the ‘cat said.

  “Yup. That’s all I am to you, opposable thumbs. And you know what, G? Don’t you ever forget it!” To emphasize this, Braden waggled his thumbs around and then touched each of his fingers in turn with each of his thumbs. “Somebody’s got thumbs and somebody else got no thumbs…” Braden sang out loud, dancing as much as he could from his perch on the rocks.

  “I go too,” Skirill said slowly, but clearly.

  Braden stopped taunting G-War and turned back toward the eagle. Braden could not have hoped for better. The eagle could help them navigate the Great Desert. “Are you sure?”

  “Yessss. ‘rends. Hacky ‘rends. Don’t want ‘or yoursells. Good ‘rends.”

  “Happy friends,” Braden repeated. “Don’t want anything for ourselves? I want plenty, I’ll have you know! Why do you think we’re going to cross the Great Desert?”

  “You ‘elee you can. I ‘elee you. You seek knowledge, not ‘ower.”

  “Yes, I believe we can. And yes, I want knowledge. But if we find some righteous Old Tech, I’m bringing it back to make a profit, so I can settle down with a good woman.”

  G-War sat up straight and cocked his head while looking at Braden.

  “Did you just make a dog face at me?”

  ‘Don’t be so insulting,’ G-war harrumphed and haughtily strode back toward the horses.

  As it got dark, the eagle hopped down the rocks, flexing his injured wing but unable to fly. The numbweed took away the pain and sped up the healing process, but they still needed time. Braden started a small fire, sheltered on three sides by the big rocks. Braden pulled out a large handful of venison. After seeing the look in Skirill’s eyes, he pulled out two more gracious servings.

  After eating their fill, they sat back, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the silence of the plains. “Skirill, maybe you can tell us how you got all that?” Braden asked, nodding toward the eagle's injuries.

  “Sit ‘aack. I tell you a story…”

  15 – The Hawkoid

  Skirill talked for a long time, starting with his unfortunate encounter with the mutie Bear. The fire had to be re-stoked a couple times during his monologue. By the end, Braden had to admit that Skirill was getting quite good at speaking in the human tongue and that he was an intelligent, magnificent creature.

  He said that he wasn’t an eagle at all. He was known as a Hawkoid, a species developed by the ancients after their arrival to help with the colonization once technology was systematically removed. The humans believed that they had to develop their self-sufficiency independently.

  Braden thought this was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. His Rico Bow was Old Tech and it made Braden’s world possible. Why would they do away with it? He’d heard stories that the ancients had arrived from the stars, but he didn’t believe that. How could anyone travel through the sky? Humans didn’t have feathers, at least those he knew didn’t.

  He believed it was a war that destroyed the ancients. War always left the people and the land shattered. He had seen it not a moon ago in the west. He made a good trade with the swords, but he didn’t like how he got them. It wouldn’t bother him to not see that again. When would humans get enough of fighting?

  He couldn’t answer that. He wore a long knife and carried the Rico Bow. Who was he to throw down his means of self-defense? Someone else would have to be first to go without weapons.

  And that person wouldn’t last long in Warren Deep. Even in Cameron he had been forced to fight, well, G-War had anyway. And Cameron wa
s supposed to be civilized. Maybe war was coming to set the world back even further.

  What kind of Old Tech would he find? Would it make the world more peaceful or more dangerous? Maybe more comfortable, but for whom?

  Braden had stopped listening to Skirill as he struggled with all the questions that entered his mind. He hadn’t heard a story with this perspective. Since he had been in the Hawkoid’s mind, he believed everything that Skirill said.

  Skirill eyed Braden patiently. He knew that the human’s attention had gone elsewhere.

  Braden looked up and mumbled an apology. He regained his focus so that Skirill would continue, but the Hawkoid hesitated.

  “You ha’ questions?” Skirill finally asked.

  “Yes and no. I have questions, but they need to make sense to me before I can ask them.” Braden looked around. Maybe his real question was, who? Who were the ancients? “What do you know about the ancients?”

  “They were wise and skilled. They were like gods. They created us. They created this land. They are the ancestors o’ all creatures here. Their ti’e ended and they turned the world o’er to you. Us. All creatures. I ho’e they are ‘roud of us, ‘ut I don’t think so.”

  Braden thought about what happened in Binghamton, in Cameron. His battle with the croc. It seemed like everyone and everything was carving out their niche with no regard to anyone else. That was not the world he envisioned. He grew up a trader. People trusted each other. People welcomed strangers, especially traders.

  Not now. That didn’t mean Braden had to embrace the fear.

  “How do Hawkoids greet and treat members of their own family?” Braden asked. “Tell me about your family.”

  “We ru’ our ‘eaks together and ‘ow.” Skirill was intrigued that the human had asked. “Our nesties are our ‘rothers and sisters fro’ one hatching. Our click is all the nesties fro’ our ‘arents, ‘ates for li’e. I ha’e two nesties and there are thirteen in our click. My ‘arents are gone. I do not yet ha’e a ‘ate.”